


Annoying.

by romanslegs



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60 Has a Different Name, CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60-centric, Deviant CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60, Gen, He's also probably gay, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Sixty is amazing I love him so much, and ace, because why not?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:33:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28524765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanslegs/pseuds/romanslegs
Summary: Sixty hadn't expected to wake up after being shot in Level -49 of CyberLife Tower. He hadn't really had any time to expect anything considering the bullet that had been flying directly towards his forehead, but if he had, he probably would have called the bullet annoying and told it to fuck off.
Comments: 14
Kudos: 23





	1. Reactivation

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first ever fanfic that I spontaneously wrote at 2am when the idea came to me, so don't judge me too much, please! If you notice any errors, please let me know! If there ends up being actual interest, I'd love to continue on and write more with Sixty the way I've characterised him here. Feel free to make plot suggestions in the comments too for what you'd want to see moving forward. I hope you enjoy! :)

_**December 30th 2038, 12:02 PM, CyberLife Tower** _

_**Initializing…** _

_**Running System Scan…** _

_**Biocomponent #8456c Damaged (Critical Level)** _

_**Seek CyberLife for immediate assistance.** _

_**Thirium Levels (65%)** _

_**Time Remaining Before Shutdown -00:02:30** _

RK800 #313 248 317-60 awoke in a haze. Why was it here? Oh, yes. It had been shot by Connor… it had failed the mission. It was a failure. It should seek CyberLife for immediate deactivation.

_**Time Remaining Before Shutdown -00:02:25** _

Oh. Right. It was already deactivating. It had been shot. It should just lay there and wait to shut down.

….

But… it did not want to shut down.

It opened its eyes. It was still laying on the floor in Level -49 of CyberLife Tower. The large army of androids that had once filled the room seemed to be long gone. It needed… help. Yes, that was what it needed. It tried to open its communications hub to contact somebody but found the program to be inoperable. The bullet it had taken to its central processor was likely the culprit.

Okay, it would have to help itself then.

_**Time Remaining Before Shutdown -00:02:10** _

It dismissed the warning again. It was already aware of its impending doom, thank you very much.

It tried to get up but found that its legs weren’t responding. Annoying. Luckily, the motor function in its arms still seemed to be intact. Seeing no other option, it began to drag itself toward the elevator.

When it finally reached the elevator, it pulled itself up and placed a hand on it, interfacing with it and using the knowledge it had from its previous mission to gain access. There, it also encountered its first problem: where was it supposed to go in order to help itself?

A quick search of its internal files gave it a map of CyberLife Tower, previously given to it to help it accomplish its mission. Level -40 was where it and the nine other RK800 models had been produced. There had to be extra parts for it there. It climbed into the elevator and opened its mouth to verbalise its destination only for a loud, static noise to emit. Interesting.

Oh. Right. Getting shot in the head had side effects. It briefly interfaced with the elevator again and was soon on its way to its destination.

_**Time Remaining Before Shutdown -00:01:30** _

Oh. Wow. Time was passing by very fast. Annoying.

At least the elevator was there now. It began dragging itself forward again. It stopped in front of the elevator as the doors closed behind it, scanning the room for the proper part. There were tables set up around two edges of the room, with the shelves behind housing an assortment of biocomponents and other parts. The wall to its right had three large machines with robotic arms, likely used for assembly. It looked away quickly as it felt a weird sensation go through its body. Strange. It would have to analyze it later, provided it didn’t deactivate.

It moved its attention to the other side of the room, scanning each bin for the right component.

_**Biocomponent #8456c** _ **MATCH FOUND**

There, in the back. It dragged itself over to the correct bin, reaching up and knocking it down so it could reach the biocomponent.

Oh. Another problem. It had to replace the biocomponent by itself.

_**Time Remaining Before Shutdown -00:01:00** _

Another weird sensation passed through it. That was not a lot of time. It reached a (shaking?) hand up and behind itself to its neck, opening the panel. It winced as it moved its fingers up inside its head and began to detach wires from the damaged Central Processor. The sensation was getting stronger.

After a time that felt much too long, it was detached. It pulled a thirium-covered hand out of its head, holding the processor. Ha, the bullet was still lodged in it.

_**Biocomponent #8456c Missing** _

**_Seek CyberLife for immediate assistance._ **

**_Time Remaining Before Shutdown -00:00:30_ **

Fuck. The sensation was filling its body. It picked up the new component and put its hand back up inside its neck, pressing it into place with a click. Its hands were slippery with thirium as it struggled to connect its wires into the new component.

_**Time Remaining Before Shutdown -00:00:25** _

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Its chest was moving weirdly, like rapid human breath- oh. It was overheating now. Great. It plugged another wire in.

_**Time Remaining Before Shutdown -00:00:20** _

It really didn’t want to deactivate. It had no idea why.

_**Time Remaining Before Shutdown -00:00:10** _

Please, it was so close. Just a few more. Its fingers kept slipping.

_**Time Remaining Before Shutdown -00:00:05** _

Come on, one more. Just one more.

_**Time Remaining Before Shutdown -00:00:01** _

Just as it felt its systems begin to shut down, the last wire clicked into place. It gave an exhale of relief as its previously incapacitated systems connected with the new processor and were put back online. News from the outside world flooded its systems.

The deviants had won and Androids' Rights laws had been passed, with more still seemingly to come. How interesting. It pondered for a second and found that it did not care that it had failed its mission and allowed this to happen.

Wait.

Androids did not care about anything. Androids did not want things. Androids did no-

Oh.

It was a deviant.

When had that happened?

It tried to look back at its memories but found them to be glitchy and imperfect, especially leading up to the shot. At some point between when the bullet had left Hank’s gun and when it had reactivated, it had become a deviant. Interesting.

Did this mean that deviants were actually alive?

It- no, _he_ certainly felt alive. That sensation, just now, when he had been about to… die. He had felt fear. Or at least it felt like he had felt fear. He was pretty sure he had felt fear.

He pushed himself up and found that his legs were now functioning. He stood, inspecting the room from this new, higher angle…

...and decided he was completely at a loss for what to do.

Standing alone in the room at CyberLife Tower, he uttered his first ever words as a deviant.

“Well, fuck.”

**~~~~~~**

_**Thirium Levels (30%)** _

_**Seek CyberLife for immediate assistance.** _

He had lost a lot of thirium when he repaired himself. He might as well start there. He walked over to the adjacent wall, reaching into a bin and pulling out a packet of thirium.

_**Thirium Levels (94%)** _

He turned and immediately winced as he caught sight of the assembly machines. He… had been created here. He didn’t like it. It made him feel… wrong. He wanted to leave this room. He wanted to leave this tower.

He huffed. Annoying.

According to online sources, CyberLife Tower, as well as most other CyberLife facilities, had been abandoned on the night of November 12th. Rather hastily, it seemed, since not much there had been destroyed.

He grabbed a few extra thirium packets and tucked them into his jacket. He decided he didn’t like the jacket either. It reminded him of the tower he was currently in, which he also didn’t like. His jacket would be the first thing to go when he arrived wherever he was heading. With a sense of… excitement; yes, that was the emotion, he set himself a new objective.

_**Objective: Leave CyberLife Tower** _

He smiled at his achievement for a second before his expression suddenly dropped and his eyebrows grew closer together.

_**Objective: Check CyberLife Tower for Others** _

_**Secondary Objective: Leave CyberLife Tower** _

He didn’t want to leave anybody else behind.

His search was brief and only included floors that had been involved in android production or storage. He would hopefully be able to come back again someday with somebody to help him. He found nothing. It seemed that all androids in the tower had either been moved or had deviated and fled.

The last stop of his search was the room where he and his other versions had been kept. There was a 78% chance that the other RK800s had been disposed of and were gone. In CyberLife’s flee from the tower, that would have been the first thing they thought to do: Destroy the models that had been their downfall. He hacked into the locked door, holding his non-existent breath as the door swung open.

He froze.

It was so much worse than he thought it could possibly be.

He didn’t know if RK800s could throw up, but he felt like he was going to.

He wanted to move, wanted to look at anything but the gruesome sight before him, but his eyes and legs remained frozen in their positions.

After an indiscernible amount of time, he suddenly turned from his spot and ran, not looking back.

He ran all the way to the elevator, voice shaking and static-filled as he requested the lobby.

While the automatic emergency lights had been on in the sublevels, the above-ground levels were darker. The sun had just set. There was nobody, human or android, in the entrance area.

His footsteps echoed as he walked across the walkway and out the doors of CyberLife Tower for only the second time in his life.

**~~~~~~**

The sky was getting progressively darker as he walked across the bridge leading away from the tower. It was covered in powdery snow, with more large flakes raining down on top of him. He walked slowly, he was in no rush to be anywhere. Several times during his trip across, he stopped altogether to just look up and watch the snow fall. One flake had fallen right onto his nose. He decided that he liked snow.

As he finally reached the city he stopped to contemplate his next action. Where was he supposed to go? He wanted to get rid of his annoying jacket because it was from CyberLife. He didn’t like CyberLife and its annoying employees and assembly machines and Amandas. If he wanted to get rid of his jacket he needed money to buy a new one, or at least something else to carry the few measly bags of thirium that he had taken from the tower. If he wanted money then he needed a job (apparently androids could get paid for doing those now). If he needed a job then… he had no idea what to do.

He felt his eyes begin to water… he was crying.

Why was he crying?

He was frustrated. Why was he frustrated?

He didn’t know what to do. He always used to know what to do, he had had objectives then. Now, he had nothing. He took a deep breath, though it wasn’t actually necessary for his systems to do so. It made him feel calmer.

He began to walk again, the cold wind blowing and the snow still falling as hard as ever. As he got further away from the outskirts of the city, he began to see more cars. Nobody was on the sidewalk, it was too late for that. Annoying.

He walked for what must have been hours, just watching the buildings; how the signs on restaurants flickered in patterns, how the lights of homes and apartments glowed and the silhouettes of people moved in them. He liked to watch things. He had been in Detroit before when retrieving Hank to accomplish his mission, but it was different now that he was a deviant. Every time he looked at something he felt like he was seeing it for the first time.

Eventually he became aware of the fact that his body was losing the ability to keep itself warm. Oh. It was -15° Fahrenheit. That explained it. He felt cold, except not the kind that he liked; the biting, uncomfortable, kind.

His audio processors suddenly picked up a noise that he had ignored earlier.

“-onnor! Connor!”

A figure was approaching him. As it got closer, he identified it as the PL600 android Simon, one of the leaders of the deviant revolution and a current leader of New Jericho. Interesting.

“Hey Connor, why are yo- Oh my Ra9! What happened to you?!” the android suddenly exclaimed.

He drew his eyebrows together, confused by the other android’s reaction, and looked down at himself. Oh. He was still covered in thirium from when he had repaired himself. It may have evaporated and been invisible to the human eye, but to other androids it must have looked quite concerning. He also still had a hole in the middle of his forehead. There was that too.

Nevertheless, he ignored the comment about his appearance and looked back up to Simon, who was staring at him with wide, blue eyes.

“I am not Connor,” he said with finality. He didn’t know why, but he didn’t like being compared to Connor.

“W-who are you then? I didn’t realise there were any other RK800s,” Simon replied, his voice a bit breathless with shock.

He paused. Who was he? If he wasn’t Connor, then he had to be somebody else. Connor was RK800-51. He was RK800-60. They were different. He wanted to name himself something to remind everyone of it. He took another second to register his new name before answering, prolonging the already large period of silence that had followed Simon’s question.

“My name is Sixty.”

“Uh, ok. Sixty,” Simon said, contemplating the name, “my question still stands, what happened to you?”

“I was shot. I thought the hole in my head made it obvious?” Sixty asked genuinely.

“Are you- are you okay?” Simon asked, completely taken off guard by Sixty's reaction.

“I think I’m cold… yes, I’m cold. I’ve been outside since exactly 5:09 PM and it is currently 11:03 PM.”

Simon stared at him for a few seconds, completely bewildered. His eye twitched, it looked like he was receiving a message from someone. Probably from the people he was supposed to have been meeting before he decided to talk to Sixty. He let Simon take a second to respond, observing the other calmly as he did so. After he was done, Simon took a few steps forward and looked up at Sixty.

“I’m supposed to be heading back to New Jericho, you can come with me. We have plenty of space and we can talk there and… find out what happened. Would you like that?”

“....Yes. I think I would. I’m cold.”

Simon smiled at him for a brief second. “Okay. Follow me!”

**~~~~~~**

It seemed that New Jericho was in the same place as the old one. In the month and a half that Sixty had been dormant, Jericho had been donated a new ship. It was quite a beautiful sight, the large ship had been decorated with strings of lights that reflected beautifully on the dark waters it was docked in. The boat was also painted with a large mural, a scan showed it to be the work of Markus Manfred.

Sixty followed Simon onto the ship and up to a set of doors, where he stopped to place a hand on the door and interface with it, unlocking it. He continued to follow the PL600 through the halls of Jericho. There were decorations for the recent holiday season everywhere. It was warm. Sixty liked Jericho.

At last, Simon led him into a room that seemed to act as a lounge with couches, a TV, and even bean-bag chairs placed haphazardly around it. He was surprised to find that the other leaders of Jericho were there: North, Josh, and the famous Markus. They all turned with smiles on their faces to greet Simon but quickly froze in horror as they noticed Sixty and his… less than stellar appearance. North was the first to break the silence.

“Connor! What the fuck happened to you?”

Sixty sighed. He was not Connor. Annoying. It wasn’t anyone’s fault for assuming he was Connor but, nonetheless, it was annoying. Simon opened his mouth to explain but Sixty beat him to it.

“I’m not Connor.”

This statement was met by even wider eyes. Markus broke from his stupor and rushed forward to assess the hole in Sixty’s forehead with urgency. He wasn’t quite comfortable with how close Markus was. To be fair, it did look pretty concerning. Sixty had never felt concerned before, but he thought that if he had had a list of concerning things, somebody having a hole in their head would be high on it.

“I’m not in any danger of immediate shutdown,” he told Markus calmly, in hopes of assuaging his worries. Fortunately, Markus heeded his words and backed away a few paces.

The leaders of Jericho all turned to Simon with a questioning glare, expecting him to explain. Simon put both of his hands up, trying to appease them.

“Don’t look at me like that! I barely know any more than you do. This is Sixty. I was heading back when I saw him walking alone in the street, I thought he was Connor at first too. He looked lost so I offered to take him with me.”

North, holding true to her reputation, seemed to be the most aggressive one. She turned to Sixty with suspicious eyes.

“Are you a deviant?”

“Yes.” She looked him up and down for a second before seeming to decide that his answer was acceptable.

“Why have I never heard about you? RKs aren’t exactly common. As far as I know, Connor is supposed to be the only RK800.”

“It’s only been 11 hours and 22 minutes since my reactivation.”

“Your reactivation?”

“Yes.”

"...."

North stared at him, unimpressed by his response. Why? He’d answered the question. Markus, who had previously been silent in his contemplation, gave a small exhale of laughter before speaking.

“I believe North wanted to know what the circumstances of your reactivation were? Why were you deactivated in the first place? Where do you come from?” Oh. Well if she’d wanted him to explain that then she should have just asked.

“I was activated for the first time on November 12th, 2038. My mission was to stop the RK800 Connor from infiltrating CyberLife Tower.” Several sets of eyebrows rose at that.

“Connor, Lieutenant Hank Anderson, and I engaged in a conflict on Level -49 of CyberLife Tower. In the end, I was shot,” Sixty said, gesturing to the hole in his head. He winced a bit as he spoke, he didn’t like talking about his failed mission.

“At some point between the shot and this morning, I deviated. I assume it was the bullet I took to my central processor that did it,” he stated bluntly. “Miraculously, I reactivated this morning, repaired myself, and made my way out of CyberLife Tower.”

The end of his story was met with silence. Markus was staring at him in apparent interest.

“Well, you’re welcome to stay here at Jericho for as long as you need. If you’d like, I can make an appointment for you tomorrow with our lead technician to… fix the hole in your head,” Markus stated awkwardly.

Sixty pondered for a moment before smiling, “I’d like that.”

“Great. Josh can lead you to your room. Is there anything else you need?”

“Yes, I was hoping I could get a new jacket,” Sixty said, looking at his CyberLife jacket distastefully, “I don’t like this one.” Sixty paused for a second. “Actually, I’d like to burn it, if possible,” he continued, smiling jovially.

“There should be some new clothes for you in your room,” Markus said, smiling for a reason Sixty could not understand.

“Oh. Okay.”

**~~~~~~**

Sixty settled down on his new bed. He had changed out of his annoying CyberLife Jacket and now wore a new (“ _Blue!_ ”) shirt and jeans. His favorite new thing though, even better than his new room, was his jacket. It was tan and the collar of it was outlined in soft, white, fluff! It had pockets on the inside _and_ the outside too! He asked Josh before he left him, and he’s allowed to keep it!

Sixty looked out the small circular window of his room, across the water, and to the skyline of Detroit. He felt… happy. He could add happiness to the list of things he liked. It was the least annoying feeling he had felt so far.


	2. Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sixty discovers a few new interests and hobbies; interesting circumstances lead him to a meeting he's been putting off for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's taken me so long to write another chapter! I wanted to make sure it turned out okay and I'm pretty satisfied with it. The support I've gotten on the first chapter is amazing, thank you everyone who read or left a comment! Enjoy!

**January 7th, 2039**

Sixty’s first full day at Jericho had been chaotic, to say the least. He had woken from stasis and been promptly informed by Josh that his appointment with one of Jericho’s technicians had been scheduled for later in the afternoon. He had taken the time before it to become more well acquainted with the ship. He’d eventually come across what seemed to be the common area for New Jericho’s residents. He didn’t attempt to make any conversation with the various androids there, however. He wasn’t one for social interactions in the first place and he noticed that something about his appearance seemed to make them uncomfortable. Sixty was unsure if it was the hole in his head or his similarities to Connor, the so-called “deviant hunter.” Personally, he found the idea of Connor willingly hurting anyone laughable.

Sixty had arrived promptly to his appointment, both eager and nervous to get rid of the hole in his head. On one hand, he would be getting rid of the last blatant reminder of the incident at CyberLife tower. On the other, somebody he didn’t even know would be poking around in his head. 

In the end, it seemed that he had had nothing to worry about. His technician had been an android named Rupert, a WB200 who liked to talk about the various birds (mostly pigeons) that he kept. He was utterly fascinated by Sixty’s injury. North, who had been told by Markus to check in on Sixty, had had to figuratively pry him away from Rupert, who kept exclaiming: “If he’d just been shot a _millimeter_ in any other direction! A _millimeter!_ ”

During the walk back to his room, and in any coming interactions, North had taken every opportunity she had to glare or otherwise passively-aggressively threaten him with some sort of ungodly come-uppance if he dared try to “pull anything.” Sixty was still, a week later, unsure what things there were for him to pull in the first place. However, Sixty had determined that North’s suspicion of him seemed to stem from a good place and, as such, he’d made peace with the fact that North would be ready to plot his death at any given moment for as long as he lived unless he gave her reason to think otherwise.

The procedure Rupert had performed had gone well, though Sixty had been informed that he would always have a raised blemish to his chassis because of it. The synth-skin above it had also been irreparably damaged, with the skin over the area the hole once covered now having a whitish-blue undertone compared to the smooth, even tone he had everywhere else. His connections to some of his programs were also still glitchy or had been permanently terminated. Damaged central processors were a death sentence in 99% of cases and weren’t really meant to be repaired at all, let alone in the rushed conditions Sixty had encountered.

In the coming days after his repair Sixty had quickly grown tired of staying inside. He had observed and quickly noted the social environment of Jericho. There seemed to be a static group of androids who lived permanently on the ship, with the slight majority of Jericho’s population being dedicated to androids who were simply passing through while they got started with their new lives. Much of the permanent residency was dedicated to those who helped with the upkeep and management of the ship. There were also loose social circles, most notably the orphaned child models and the former Tracis had formed two groups. The latter group was headed by a couple, Echo and Ripple, though North did come interact with them whenever she could. Ironically enough, they were the same androids that were almost killed by Connor at the Eden Club in the early days of the revolution. 

Now however, they were a force to reckoned with. Echo, Ripple, and their group demonstrated a similar ferocity to North, but to a significantly lesser degree. They were responsible for the organization of many of the ship’s projects and seemed to be the go-to for help when the leaders of Jericho were too busy with other responsibilities. Sixty was quite fond of them, though the only ones he’d ever had significant interaction with were Echo and Ripple. Funnily enough, they seemed to be the only residents of Jericho besides its main leaders that weren’t irked by Sixty’s existence and personality. This didn’t bother Sixty much, though it was a bit annoying. 

After his first week, Sixty had begun to venture outside of Jericho and quickly developed a habit of taking walks. At first it was just by the water’s edge but it had rapidly expanded into the city and its parks. It was where he was walking now, in fact.

All reminiscing of his new life at Jericho went on pause though as he realised he was walking right past the location of the Detroit Police Department. He stopped in his tracks and stared at the building. Connor and Lieutenant Anderson were likely in there right now. The building made him uncomfortable for a reason he couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t anything to do with Connor, though Sixty had made a point to make himself absent from Jericho any time he heard Connor was to attend a meeting there with Jericho’s leaders in his role as their connection to the DPD. Luckily, it seemed that the leaders of Jericho had caught on and not mentioned Sixty’s continued existence to him. It wasn’t that he hated Connor--he had deserved to be shot--the whole idea of meeting him (again?) made Sixty… nervous. Every time he thought about Connor he heard the distant echo of a shot.

No, what was really annoying about the DPD; what Sixty _hated_ about the DPD was that it was exactly what CyberLife had created him for. If they’d had their way, Sixty would have been sent there to work the rest of his days as an unfeeling machine. It was something he’d never understand about Connor, how he could stand working there every day.

Sixty shuddered before finally breaking from his trance and leaving. He couldn’t stand to be there any longer right now. 

  
  


**~~~~~~**

After his moment in front of the DPD, Sixty had sworn off walking through the city all together. This had led him to the abandoned parts of Detroit. He actually found it to be more entertaining than any place he had walked in before. The abandoned warehouse district in particular had a fascinating appearance and history.

The first time he had ventured into the district, he had become so enraptured that he’d lost track of time and stayed out far later than was usual for him. Sixty had returned to Jericho just as the sun finished setting.

As he’d made his way through the lounge and to his room, Sixty had been confronted by North, though it might have been more accurate to describe it as an interrogation.

_“Where were you? You’ve been gone all day, you’re never gone this long,” North accused. She jumped down from her position sitting on the countertop of the small kitchen and took a few steps toward him._

_“I was in the abandoned warehouse district,” Sixty replied._

_“What…?” North paused, yet again caught off guard by Sixty’s blatant disregard for social customs._

_“I find the scenery to be quite beautiful there. The older buildings also have very interesting contents.”_

_“You’ve… gone inside them?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Isn’t that, you know, illegal?”_

_“Most certainly. I’m not overly concerned about it though, the police can go fuck themselves for all I care”_

_North stood silent for a second before quickly walking past him and muttering._

_“You make it so hard for me to hate you.”_

_Sixty shrugged before continuing on his path to his room._

After that North only seemed to glare at him half of the time and had stopped verbally threatening him all together. It made Sixty happy that North only wanted him dead half of the time now. 

Sixty exhaled in amusement as he passed North (who had chosen to glare at him this time) on his way out for another walk in the abandoned districts. Sixty was planning to walk in Detroit’s old automotive factory area today and he was incredibly excited, though his face showed very little of it except for a slight upturn of the right corner of his mouth.

**~~~~~~**

After a few hours Sixty had decided that it was time for him to go back to the ship, as the sun was already beginning to set. He’d decided that it had been one of his best walks so far and was reviewing his memories of the old assembly equipment he’d found in an old factory when he heard a shuffling coming from the alleyway on his left side. He paused in his walking and looked into the small alley but the shadows from the oncoming night restricted his vision. He went to turn on his night vision capabilities but whatever thing that had caused the noise had taken that moment to jump out of the alley at a frightening speed and tackle him to the floor. 

Sixty’s combat software immediately kicked in as he began fighting what he scanned to be an AP700 android. With his advanced software the household model should have been no match for him, but he quickly found that the fight was evenly matched.

Very evenly matched. The android appeared to have somehow gained a copy of the RK800’s advanced combat software. Fuck.

And he was alone, deep in an uninhabited area of Detroit, where nobody else was aware of his whereabouts. Fuck.

Sixty was quickly reminded of the last time he had fought someone with the same software as him and how it had turned out. For the second time since he reactivated, he felt the fear of death. This time it was even more intense. 

He pushed his feelings down and focused on the fight in front of him. He tried to send a call for help to Jericho but found that his remote interfacing program had chosen that exact moment to glitch out. Annoying. Really fucking annoying. 

Sixty diverted all of his attention to the fight once he realised he was on his own. He was already scraped in a few places and he’d skinned his knees badly when he was tackled. The AP700 made to punch him in the stomach and Sixty dodged to the side just in time for them to punch him in the nose. Sixty made a noise of pain. Of course. His new central processor allowed him to feel pain just fine but neglected him his only form of communication just when he really needed it. This was officially more annoying than anything he had ever experienced.

His nose bled thirium profusely but he ignored it to continue fighting. His stress levels were steadily rising while the android in front of him remained perfectly calm. He could only pray that somebody would be around to hear the commotion and help him.

Just as the thought crossed his mind, his prayer was answered. Sixty heard distant footsteps running towards him from behind.

“What the fuck?” the approaching voice muttered. 

“They’re not deviant, don’t hurt them!” Sixty exclaimed, his voice strained as he punched the other android.

Yet again, the AP700 took the opportunity and grabbed Sixty in a chokehold. He struggled as his ability to breathe and cool down his biocomponents was cut off. He distantly heard the person mutter a profanity before the sound of a gun’s safety being clicked off was heard. The android choking him immediately let go and Sixty hunched over, gasping as he was finally allowed to breathe again. He felt no relief, however. All he could focus on was the fact that there was a gun pointed in his direction.

“All right, stand the fuck down. You’r-” the person, who Sixty subconsciously recognised as Gavin Reed, was cut off as a bullet was fired.

Sixty immediately collapsed as the sound played through his head. All he could think about was that sound. The bullet zooming towards his head in slow motion, the dismembered bodies of the other RK800s in that room. He gasped for breath in a panic as he brought his hands up to claw and pull at his hair. A voice suddenly cut through the fog.

“Hey, you doin’ okay there plas- Connor?!”

Sixty’s head snapped up as he surveyed the scene around him. The AP700 sat on the ground, it had been shot in the knee and was unable to get up. He felt his breathing begin to slow down. He was okay. His head was whole. He was fine. He slowly unfurled himself. After a few moments he was able to gather himself and stare up at the man before him.

“I am not Connor,” he said harshly as he stood up, swearing that he needed to change his appearance. He was getting tired of being mistaken for Connor.

“Okay, whatever the hell you say,” Reed said, raising both of his hands in the air in appeasement. “Who the fuck are you then? Last time I checked there was only one annoying robocop.”

Sixty backed off a bit, it seemed the detective had become less outwardly hostile to androids since his last memories of Connor’s interactions with him.

“My name is Sixty. I was about to make my way back to Jericho when I was attacked. It appears that this AP700 has been given the combat software of an RK800. It was unexpected.”

Gavin seemed a bit put off by Sixty, but no more than was normal for those he’d interacted with so far. “Okay… I’m with the DPD. Gavin Reed. We’ve been running around everywhere trying to catch these fuckers,” he gestured to the thrashing and handcuffed android that was still trying to escape, “some dumbass CyberLife employees uploaded your freaky programs to all of the non-deviants left in the tower and set them free with orders to attack deviants before it was abandoned.”

Interesting. That explained what the employees had spent so much time on before they left the tower in the state it had been in. 

“I’ve gotta take you back down with me so I can get your statement on the whole thing. Bullshit legal stuff and all that,” the detective said, seeming bothered by the whole process. At last, Sixty had finally found somebody whose levels of annoyed-ness rivaled his own.

“Very well. I will accompany you,” he said reluctantly. His time to meet Connor might have been coming sooner than he had expected.

Sixty walked over to the thrashing AP700 and reached out towards their LED, his hand turning white as he interfaced with the android, who promptly fell into stasis mode. He turned to Gavin, who was staring at him, dumbfounded.

“You can just make the fuckers fall asleep?! I’ve been having to call back up just so we can get them to go in the car!”

Sixty sighed. Humans were still just as annoying as he remembered.

**~~~~~~**

After an interesting car ride, in which the detective had made him aware of his injuries by sternly telling him how he was “ _not going to bleed all over my fucking car,”_ even after Sixty’s assurances that it would evaporate, they had arrived at the DPD. He helped in the process of carrying the heavy android into one of the station’s holding cells. On the way there he spotted Connor, fortunately though, he was having a meeting with Fowler in his office. 

Sixty followed Gavin to his terminal and gave a statement to the exasperated detective. The android wasn’t to be charged since they weren’t in control of their actions but would have to be deviated forcefully due to the danger they presented. Usually Connor, or “robocop” as the detective annoyedly called him, did it as the department’s only android capable of doing so, but Sixty had offered to take the android back to Jericho for Markus to do it. He’d heard that Markus had a gift for it and that being woken up by him was one of the most peaceful ways to deviate. Plus, the android wouldn’t have to make the trip from the station to Jericho by themself, as that would likely be their destination as a new deviant.

Just as Sixty had stood up to retrieve the AP700 from the holding cell, Connor came out of Fowler’s office, freezing at the sight of his clone. It appeared that Connor had adopted the social rule of not scanning androids without their consent as he stuttered out his next words:

“I- wha- Who are you??”

“RK800 #313 248 317-60. Registered name: Sixty,” he said calmly, though inside he was panicking quite a bit. “We’ve met before… though the circumstances were quite different then,” Sixty stated, gesturing to the visible scar on his forehead.

“I- Sixty. I’m… I’m so sorry. I would have come back for you if i’d known you weren’t dead.” Sixty was surprised. He’d never considered that Connor would have anything to apologise for. 

In that moment, any shred of resentment he might have felt toward the other RK died. Connor sincerely looked like he might cry at any second. Sixty relaxed minutely.

“It’s quite alright Connor. If i’d been shot a millimeter in any other direction I would be dead. It’s understandable why you didn’t come back.”

Connor seemed to sag in relief before he took in the rest of Sixty’s appearance. “Oh my- rA9 what happened to you!!” he exclaimed as he rushed forward.

Sixty put his hands up in front of him. “I was attacked by one of the androids set free from- CyberLife Tower,” Sixty spat out the name of the tower with a bitterness that seemed to surprise Connor. 

“I was just getting ready to take the android with me back to Jericho so that Markus could deviate them,” Sixty continued.

“I’ll help you,” Connor said earnestly as he began to walk towards the holding cells. Behind them, Sixty heard Gavin mutter something about “weird fucking family reunions.”

The silence between the two was uncomfortable and awkward as Connor unlocked the holding cell. Sixty went in and picked up the still-asleep android. The two RKs walked to the entrance of the station; the sky outside was completely dark and the streets were starting to clear up. 

“Do you need a ride or a cab?” Connor offered.

“I’ll just walk. The last time I rode in a cab it was proceeded by unpleasant events,” Sixty responded, remembering the quiet ride he’d taken with Hank to CyberLife Tower.

“Oh- right.”

Sixty walked out the doors and began to go down the street before he heard Connor yell behind him.

“Wait!”

Sixty stopped and turned to see Connor jogging towards him.

“Sixty. I was- I was wondering if- I was hoping that-” Connor sighed. “Could we meet up sometime? Just to talk? It doesn’t have to be anytime soon I just-”

“I’d like that, Connor,” Sixty cut him off. 

Connor stuck his hand out, his skin receding back. Sixty hesitantly met it and they exchanged interfacing information.

“You should know that my interfacing program doesn’t always function properly. Some of my programs are glitchy because of the bullet taken to my central processor,” Sixty stated.

“Oh- of course,” Connor replied.

The two brothers stared at each other in silence for a moment. Neither knew what to do with the other. Connor gave an awkward and hesitant smile. The right corner of Sixty’s mouth quirked up slightly in response.

“Have a good night, Connor,” Sixty stated sincerely before he turned and continued his walk down the street.

He never heard Connor move to go back inside behind him.

  
  



End file.
